


Home is with you

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, pie!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-08 00:52:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6832234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Civil war, if the end credit scene didn't happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am obsessed with pie and baking, it's my coping method for basically everything. And Sarah Rogers is my hero, I love her. I'm sure Bucky loved her too. Also I just wanted to write h/c stucky one-shot

When Steve was little his mother used to bake the best pies in the whole world. He would watch from his spot on the dinner table. He watched as she mixed the flour, butter, and eggs, kneading until it stuck together. The kitchen would smell like apple and cinnamon. When he was there, he was safe. He was Home.  
That was a life-time ago. It could have been a different life altogether. Come to think of it, it kind of was.  
He hadn’t felt save when a robot tried to destroy the world, when aliens poured from the sky, when his best friend who he saw falling of a plane turned out to be alive, tortured, and manipulated into being a serial killer, when the company that he worked for turned out to be evil and want to kill him together with most of the rest of the world. He hadn’t felt save since Bucky went off to war, really.  
Steve was tense, and stressed. He was done with fighting, had been for a while now.  
When Bucky agreed to go some place quiet, somewhere without super soldiers, aliens, robots or evil governments, Steve was more than happy to go along.  
Wanda, still filled with grief over her brother’s death, couldn’t hold on much longer either and decided to join them. They’d move out of the country. Sam had made a deal somewhere, with someone. Steve didn’t hadn't felt  like questioning it. All he’d asked was “Is it safe?”, to which Sam replied “As safe as it’s gonna get with all of you there.”. It had been enough info for him.  
Bucky had slept most of the way there. Wanda didn’t talk a lot. Steve still didn’t feel safe. Nothing new.  
The place turned out to be a ruin, of sorts. It was a small house. a nice, big garage(nice, if you imagined a roof on it)(and maybe windows), surrounded by fields and forrest.  
Steve was surprised a place so peaceful even existed. He was even more surprised to find “ant-man” in the trunk of his car, asleep. Well, the more the merrier, right?  
They took a few days to renovate, and move into, the small house, which had been as well facilitated as the garage, but which no less then four super soldiers it hadn’t been much of a problem.  
Wanda was mainly focussed on the gardening. She really had a knack for it. Scott was great with all the electrical things, water pipes and what not. Steve was sure what he exactly did wasn’t exactly how normal people had it set up, but it worked. It worked amazing.  
Bucky had found peace in the garage. He’d put together a roof(no one is sure how but one day it just was there), he made a few workspaces for all of them. He even cleaned the place, to Scotts surprise. Scott had still had the picture of Bucky as war machine, Sergeant Barnes working along side Captain America. But not for very long. Not after Wanda introduced him to flower crowns.  
Every morning, for the past 80 years or so, Steve had woken up briefly wondering where he was this time. Often simultaneously trying to remember who he’d have to fight that day.  
It was a nice day. Sun shining on the still cold and damp ground. Bird were singing like they were auditioning for idols. A smell of apple and cinnamon floating trough the air. Wait- what?  
Steve bolted upright, wide awake. He looked around. It was still the room he went to sleep in the night before. He sat up, sniffing the air once more.  
No offence to Wanda, but she really wasn’t the best baker out there. Great soldier, not great baker.  
He slowly made his way downstairs. Steve didn’t expect Scott to be able to cook or bake, either. Not after the incident with the “cookies” anyway.  
He walked trough the hall attached to the kitchen; the source of the amazing smell. Steve himself hadn’t put anything in the oven, not that he remembered. That only left-  
‘Buck?’  
‘Stevie!’ Bucky was standing in the kitchen, busying himself cleaning the dishes in the sink. He was wearing the pink apron, one of the few items the previous owners had left in the house for when they arrived there. Steve leaned against the door frame. It was way too early for this.  
‘Did you know there is a farmers market in the village every Tuesday?’ Bucky asked, grinning like a little kid on Christmas morning.  
‘No, I didn’t know that.’ The village wasn’t even a real village. It was more 3 farms and a house, built a bit closer to each other than the other buildings. You could get milk and all the other basics there, though.  
‘-So I said “yeah, we just moved in.” and' Bucky continued talking while Steve was processing everything, baffled by the sight of his friend he hadn't seen in so long 'So he said “than you don’t know about Joyce’s apples yet, do you?” and I was-'  
‘Buck.’ Steve interrupted Bucky’s overexcited rambling. Bucky looked up. ‘How..’ he gulped down the knot forming in his throat, ‘How did you get that recipe?’ Bucky smile widened while his eyes softened.  
‘Remember when you were sick?’  
‘You’ll have to be more specific than that, Buck.’ He said as sat down on the kitchen table. A strange kind of nostalgia settled in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't put his finger on it.  
‘I don’t know which time, but you were sick. Sarah was home, I didn’t wanna go home. Didn’t wanna leave you.’ He paused, taking time to choose his words, ‘Your mom, she taught me. She said “Bucky,” she said “I am getting old.” I did say something along the lines of “bullshit” but she insisted to let her finish. She told me that it’s a family recipe, and that I was basically family so...’ He paused again, this time to study Steve’s expresion. “She taught me. I just I thought I- Whoa.’  
Bucky did not expect to have two arms full of pure meat and muscle, going by the name of Steve, trow himself to him, but here he was. Steve was holding onto his shirt as if his life depended on it. After awhile, when it had become clear to Bucky that Steve wasn’t planning on letting go of him anytime soon, he asked,‘You okay there, Pal?’  
Steve had responded by a strangled noise that could both be an affirmative or a really creative pterodactyl impression. Bucky had chuckled and relaxed. Steve began shaking a bit. When Bucky noticed steve was crying he started rubbing circles in steve’s arms, humming some old lullaby’s he used to sing for steve, back when Steve was small and Ready to Fight.  
‘Relax. We’re home. It’s okay now.’ Bucky whispered. Steve wasn’t sure if it was for him of Bucky was talking to himself. Maybe both. Either way, Bucky was right.  
They were home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this was supposed to be a one-shot, but now it's just gonna be a series of moments. It might not have a plot. It maight have. Idk, I just really like these idiots and want to see how things play out. Enjoy!

It wasn’t planned, nor acknowledged, not really. It just kind of… started.  
It was two AM and they came dripping in one by one until all four of them where set in various places in the living room.  
Bucky had found his place in the far corner of the room. His hands were shaking as his eyes were stuck in front of him, glazed over.   
Wanda wasn’t very far. She’d been leaning against the sofa, not having the energy of motivation to get up from the floor and sit on the sofa like you’re supposed to. Like Steve. Steve was sitting on the stained sofa, still trying to wake himself up. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. His breathing was slowly getting more regular and steady.  
Scott wasn’t in the living room at the moment. He was trying to make coffee, if the coffee machine would be so nice to do it’s job and work. He soon gave up and switched to tea. He didn’t have the patience for it at night. Scott didn’t have a lot of problems with nightmares or other things. He just slept whenever he felt like it, meaning he was awake whenever he felt like it too. Like at two in the morning. And everyone else was awake too, so that was nice.  
It slowly but surely became a regular thing amongst them; 2 AM tea time. No one talked about the nightmares, but they were all appreciative of the company, after seeing your greatest fears played out in front of you, once again. 

About two weeks after 2am-tea-time became a Thing, Bucky broke down. Not dangerously, not like he would ever want to hurt someone, but still. He hadn’t slept in a while, his muscles had become heavy, it became harder to open his eyes when he blinked, but the sheer terror of what he would see the moment he’d keep them closed kept him going. After a while, his conscience wouldn’t leave him alone, he couldn’t shut it out anymore. All his brain did was either screaming or blasting that annoying hit song that was apparently popular now for some reason. His head was full. Everything was full. His senses overloaded and he couldn’t take it.   
His breathing quickened while everywhere around him became a blur of noise and light. He felt sick like he was tumbling downhill in a disco barrel. He screamed, but the noise drowned out his voice. He blindly hit around him, his hands disappearing from his field of vision. until his hand hit something hard. He got shortly pulled out of his confusion. The effect of hitting something hadn’t lasted long, but long enough for him to hear Steve’s voice though all the noise around him.   
‘Steve?’ He said. He could feel his mouth moving. He knew he made sound. He couldn’t hear it.   
‘I’m here. It’s me.’  
‘Steve.’  
‘Calm down, buck. You can calm down. You’re safe now.’   
Bucky started to calm down very slowly. He focussed on Steve’s voice, on his breathing, heartbeat. When his hearing had returned, he realized he had closed his eyes. He opened them carefully, preparing himself for all the imput it would bring.   
The room was mostly silent. He let out a long sigh. Steve was rubbing circles in his back while quietly whispering things like ‘It’s okay’ and ‘We’re okay’. Bucky didn’t move from his spot, snuck up closely against steve’s side. Apparently they had somehow sat down on the sofa now to. Bucky closed his eyes and the next moment he knew there was tea and birds screaming like their lives depended on it.  
He felt Steve stir beside him.  
‘Morning Stevie.’ He murmured, not awake enough to properly pronounce stuff.  
He felt Steve lift his head from Bucky’s, where it previously had been resting. Steve sighed, then groaned, and proceeded to bury his head back in Bucky’s hair. Bucky understood.   
They stayed like that for what felt like a few seconds until Scott walked in, whistling and completely oblivious to the super-soldiers who were still more asleep than awake on the couch.  
‘Dude, can you shut up.’ Bucky asked, wincing at the sound of Scotts whistling. Scott jerked his head up stopping dead in his tracks.  
‘Oh. uhm. Well this is new. I think… is uhm is it? You know what, don’t answer that.’ Scott turned around, but remembered something and stopped, facing them again.  
‘Wanda said to tell you that we’re picnicking. She told me that you were going with us.’ He nodded, as to agree with himself and then turned around again, actually leaving the room this time. Seconds after Scott closed the door, Bucky’s stomach rumbled.   
‘All right, time for food.’ He sat up, distancing himself from Steve. He stretched his arms above his head when he spotted the hole in the wall.  
‘He, Steve?’   
‘Hmm?’ Steve replied mid yawn.  
‘When did that hole get th- oh god.’ The memories of the night before slowly coming back to him. ‘I didn’t hurt anyone, did I?’ Steve frowned in confusion, before a look of understanding shot through his face.   
‘Oh, yeah! No! You punched a wall and then fell asleep. I meant to ask if you’re feeling any better now. Sorry, I totally forgot there.’ Steve tried to laugh it off but soon stopped when Bucky’s face stayed on Serious Mode.  
‘Seriously, are you okay?’ Steve placed his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, something he did to show support. Steve, as the awkward puppy he truly was, used this gesture often as it wasn’t likely to be inappropriate.   
‘Yeah, I’m… I’m good. Sure I didn’t hurt anyone?’ Bucky asked. He felt relieved when Steve shook his head.   
‘No one got hurt, except maybe you and your hand.’ Bucky nodded. He felt his stomach protesting.   
The door swung open, this time a slightly pissed of Wanda appeared in the living room.  
‘All right. You boys’ve had enough time to wake up now. There is food and you are coming. Come on.’ Her face was determined but the uplifting tone of her voice gave her away. Bucky straightened his back and saluted her.  
‘Yes ma’am.’ They followed her outside where a big plate of sandwiches were waiting to be eaten. Scott pretended to wait on them, not realizing he had mayo in the hooks of his mouth.  
‘Just so we’re clear,’ He said, a few crumbs falling of his shirt, ‘I have no idea how to fix a hole in the wall, so it’s probably best if i don’t do it.’   
‘I’ll do it. Now eat.’ Wanda said. She didn’t have to tell them twice.  
The next day their was no hole in the wall anymore. Now there was a spot, about 30 cm in diameters, covered in duct tape. After that they had a specific drawer in the kitchen, filled with only duct tape. Bucky swore it was the best thing to come from early of 1900. After Steve, of course.


	3. Wanda's garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanda has a vegetable and flower garden. She's really embracing the witch in her.

Wanda had a lot of time on her hands these days. While this on itself wasn’t new, it was for the first time she had so much freedom coming with it.   
For as much as America praised themselves on their freedom, Wanda thought it shouldn’t feel so much like breathing after being drowned when she escaped from the country. But here she was.   
She was as safe as she could be and she was in good company, so it didn’t matter a whole lot to her anymore.   
While she’d needed some more time to warm up to Scott, Wanda had instantly liked Bucky. He was kind, scared, and filled with grief, all of which were things she could relate to. She trusted him. And Steve trusted him, and she trusted Steve. It was one big circle of trust, and Scott.  
The boys worked hard on the little cottage, but Wanda hadn’t felt the same need for walls around her as they did. The roof made her feel trapped and the walls made her feel restricted. Like she was somehow less safe than when she was outside.  
Because of this, Wanda didn’t want to work inside the house. Meaning all the time and energy she had could be poured into the garden. Or would-be garden, when she’d be done with it.   
Working on the garden calmed her. Feeling the actual ground under her fingers worked wonders for her dissociation.   
Another reason she loved it so much was that plants couldn’t get scared of her. Plants didn’t have thoughts, feelings, or underlying motives. When they didn’t grow it wasn’t out of spite, and when they did it wasn’t out of pity.   
She’d looked through the “garage” once before Bucky worked his magic on the place. She’d found a few potatoes, some seeds, and a handful of really persistent plants she didn’t know the names of, but damn did they want to grow.   
The local library was very helpful in identifying all plants and their purpose. Not the library itself, the books in there were ancient, but the lady who run the library had been very nice. The lady had guided her through the process of planting the seeds and taking care of them. She was amazing.  
Wanda felt strangely more in her place in the small, cramped room than in big, spacious rooms, like those is the Stark tower  
The place was small and smelled like dust. The only real piece of technology was an old computer, which had a 50/50 chance of starting, but it worked. Sort of. It had a catalogue with herbs and vegetables with the time they should be in the ground and the time it could be harvested.  
The library was stocked with books and filled with the character of those who lived there. It was so in contrast with the empty house they were working on at home, Wanda decided she needed to change that.  
Back home, Wanda had made a few flower beds from some planks lying around in the small forest behind the house. The flowers grew beautifully. Wanda felt proud.   
She did see the irony in her name “scarlet witch” and living in a small place in the middle of nowhere growing her little garden. All she needed was a cat and she’d be complete. Actually a cat wasn’t a bad idea, but maybe for another time. Not now everything was just starting to get together.  
The first time some of the flowers were ready for harvest she made a bouquet for the library lady, to thank her for her help. The lady had swept her up in a big hug. It’d surprised Wanda how much muscle the lady had.  
From the remaining flowers she formed a few bouquets for their own little home. She’d didn’t expect the guys to notice immediately when they walked in, but the appreciation was nice anyway. What she really hadn’t been expecting was Bucky tearing up at the sight of the flowers. He had stared at the flowers intently, his hand hovering around one of the flowers as if it was the most precious thing in the world. She knew the past few weeks had been very hard for him. Hell, everybody knew that, even Scott couldn’t have missed it. Of course it had been hard on everybody but she only realized how vulnerable he really was the night of the incident. When he got so blind with panic he couldn’t breathe and hit a wall in confusion. Wanda had felt the sheer angst flowing off of him. The others had seen him freaking out, sure, but they couldn’t see how much pain he was truly in. She herself couldn’t even wrap her head around the amount of pain he must have suffered. She’d gotten a lot more respect for the man after that, so seeing him tear up at the sight of the flowers really blew her mind.   
‘So, you like them?’ She’d asked eventually. He looked at her and nodded, then looked back at the flowers and nodded more franticly. It would be comical, if it also wasn’t so incredibly painful to watch. She’d excused herself to get some fresh air.  
After that, she always made sure to have flowers around. His work on the garage had doubled in speed. He’d fixed everything in no time and she wasn’t sure, but she thought she’d heard him actually laugh out loud once, at one of Steve’s bad jokes.   
When the idea struck her, she snorted at the mental image. She’d been glad no one had been around to see her laughing out loud at herself covered in dirt, or they might have concluded she’d gone insane. Joke’s on them, because she’d concluded that herself a long time ago.  
A sunny afternoon came by quickly enough. They were all relaxing outside, slightly tired but full of contentment and especially full with wonder for how the four of them could ever have made it this far without a major incident. Scott had fallen asleep face first on the ground and Steve had unceremoniously draped a blanket over him. After all, Steve was still a good man.  
Bucky seemed as relaxed as he could be, that being for a tortured and manipulated ex-soldier fututive.   
‘Why are you staring at me?’ He asked. He hadn’t even needed to look over.  
‘I’m gonna put flowers in your hair.’ She said, more as a statement than anything else.  
‘Knock yourself out.’ He said, face still on unreadable. She smiled. This was going to be great.  
When she was done collecting flowers and carefully making a crown that could fit around Bucky’s head, the sun was already low and Bucky was almost ready with dinner. He’d taken the cooking on himself ever since Steve seemed to be ten times happier whenever Bucky had cooked for them. She left the flower crown for what it was while helping with setting up the table. Scott had appeared, awake this time, when he smelled the food.   
During dinner Bucky asked how the flowers were coming along. With a sly grin she slid out of her seat and went to grab the crown from her little self-made greenhouse.   
She could tell instantly that Bucky absolutely loved it. His face split in a grin when she put it on his head. She left Steve to fidget with his hair as she admired the colour combinations she’s made and how well it all came together. Bucky’s face fell a bit, almost unnoticeably, when Scott laughed at him. He stopped when his chair mysteriously fell over, dragging him down with it. So mysterious. It wasn’t as if anyone of them could move things with their mind. It would always be a mystery. Weird.   
Bucky laughed soundly at Scott’s face and Steve looked as if it had been the best moment of his life. Flower crowns became a thing after that.   
He wore them so often he forgot to take it off once when he went to the market. “Summerboy” was now his new nickname in town, and Bucky couldn’t be happier with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if you want to read more from Wanda, I personally really like her. I'm so curious what's gonna happen to her character in the upcoming movies.


End file.
